


now onto the future

by knlalla



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, No Angst, POV Third Person, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 05:23:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18439916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knlalla/pseuds/knlalla
Summary: It’s become something of a game, Dan and Phil chasing each other through time.





	now onto the future

**Author's Note:**

  * For [uselessphillie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/uselessphillie/gifts).



> wow i can't believe i had to write a fluffy time travel au with no angst cause rose ([uselessphillie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/uselessphillie/pseuds/uselessphillie)) said it couldn't be done - and endless thanks to her for betaing as well

It’s become something of a game, but the traveling hadn’t really _started_ as anything Dan would consider ‘fun’.

The first time he met Phil, Dan had traveled on accident - back when the Jonas Brothers had remade ‘Year 3000’, he’d been captivated by the idea of skipping ahead through time to see if it would really be all the song had made it out to be. Not that he thought it was an accurate representation by any means, but curiosity had sparked in his head and he couldn’t get it out.

It was the first time he’d ever traveled, too.

He’d spent hours lost in his head, avoiding homework and imagining the plausibility of flying cars and teleportation and time travel - ironically - when he’d dozed off. That’s how he’d felt, at least, like he’d taken a brief nap. But he’d woken in a new place, one suspiciously like his daydreams, if a bit grungier than the shiny-metal-all-chrome aesthetic he’d pictured.

At the time, he’d thought it was a dream - that he was still asleep, awake only inside his own imagination and exploring the futuristic city. The hairstyles, that’s what he remembers most, and the feeling of wonder he’d had at first - he’d always hoped to see something _new_ , something different and unreal.

But the shininess had worn off quite quickly, after he’d wandered for ages and decided it was about time to wake up; when his ‘dream’ refused to end, the panic had set in hard and fast. He’d collapsed to the ground after hours of trying to find his way home, the rough pavement some sort of familiar comfort as he huddled against a wall and willed himself to wake up wake up _wake up_.

That’s when Dan first met him - the other traveler. He remembers the soft ‘ _hello_ ’, then looking up and thinking he must’ve still been dreaming. The voice belonged to a guy not far off his own age, and he had a sort of glow around him, something that Dan would now describe as ethereal, luminous, radiant even. At the time, though, he could only think it was _beautiful_. And _other_.

‘ _Who are you?_ ’ Dan had asked, wiping at his eyes in the hopes that they’d clear and he’d see this other guy for real, without the glow around him. Also because fifteen-year-olds shouldn’t cry, that was childish and immature. He could figure out what had happened and how to get home, and he certainly didn’t need to cry about it. 

‘ _I’m Phil, I’m like you,_ ’ the guy had said, and Dan’s eyes had widened. The glow hadn’t disappeared. ‘ _Are you lost? I can help you get home._ ’ He had a soft smile, Dan remembers, kind and hopeful. For the first time since he’d arrived in that time - and maybe the first time _ever_ \- he felt like things would really turn out okay.

\----------------

For all the things that have changed over the years, Phil still bears the same gentle smile he had nearly a decade ago, when he’d first come across a kid cast out of his own time with no idea how to get home. 

Dan watches from the park’s entrance as Phil, hidden under the shade of an umbrella and stood behind an ice cream cart, hands over a cone stacked with two precariously balanced scoops to a grinning patron. Dan’s grateful that Phil’s glow hasn’t changed either, glimmering in that indescribable but unmistakably _Phil_ sort of way that had dragged at Dan’s attention from nearly a block away.

“You look like you’d enjoy…” Phil pauses, squinting his eyes at the next person in line, a child staring up at him with wide eyes. Phil even goes for a comical tap of his chin, like this is the most important decision he’s ever made, and Dan does his best to contain the giggle that bubbles up his throat. Phil’s always been like that, a little over the top but with such good intent - to make people smile, laugh, enjoy themselves for a moment or two.

When Dan’s particularly lucky, he gets to be the object of Phil’s good intent. Dan’s spent many a vacation - their reward, when they’ve found each other in whichever time and place they’ve hidden - listening to Phil’s absurd jokes, his bad puns and animated storytelling. It makes the whole game worthwhile.

“Chocolate!” Phil announces it at the top of his lungs, finger held high in the air as though he’s just discovered the secret to time travel. Dan has to stifle another chuckle - as if Phil’s not known how to time travel for years and years now. 

“Yes yes yes yes!” The kid bounces up and down with each word, hands clasped tight around a piece of paper money that Dan doesn’t recognize and doesn’t care to - they won’t be staying here for long, anyway.

Dan watches the shifting of Phil’s glow as he scoops out some ice cream for the girl, handing her the cone with such care and delicacy that Dan wonders if he’s not done this before, been an ice cream vendor in some other time. 

Or maybe he’s just been here a while, long enough to get the hang of it. The clue he’d left Dan hadn’t been the easiest, although it’s only been a few days in Dan’s time since he’s last seen Phil. He hopes it hasn’t been too long for Phil, that he’s not had to wait for ages in this unfamiliar time all by himself.

Or maybe Phil just eats a lot of ice cream, that wouldn’t surprise Dan either. The man has a thing for sugar.

The little girl is the last customer in the very long line that had trailed across the park when Dan first arrived, so he pushes himself up from where he’d been leaning against the fence and makes his way to the little cart. Phil’s turned away, perhaps putting the money into the small register, but he can’t see Dan’s approach and Dan intends to take full advantage.

“I’ll have two of your finest scoops, good sir,” Dan announces in his most put-on voice as soon as he’s stepped under the large umbrella protecting the cart - and Phil - from the setting sun.

“Just a-” Phil starts as he turns back, his hair a bit droopy from the afternoon heat and the sweat beading on his brow. He pauses when he sees Dan, though, and his regular ‘nice to see you’ smile widens into something much brighter. Hell, his entire _being_ brightens, all the way to the ends of his glow, and it shimmers in a way that matches the shimmer of heat on a day as hot as today.

“I suppose I could wait, if you insist,” Dan shrugs, leaning forward until his elbows hit the cool metal of the cart. Phil leans forward too, only it’s a bit quicker and a bit less coordinated, and his lips crash into Dan’s with enough force to make Dan rock back on his heels.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” Phil says into the space between them, once he’s pulled back enough that there _is_ space. Dan blows out a breath, but it’s only partly in annoyance.

“You left a hard clue, I mean, do you know how many parks there are in the entirety of history?” Dan grumbles, but he’s more mad at himself for missing the time period Phil had hinted at. He should’ve figured it out ages ago, and he should’ve gotten the time more precise than he had.

“It wasn’t _that_ hard,” Phil says, but he purses his lips in the way Dan knows means he wishes he’d made it more obvious, made it easier for Dan to get here. He knows what worry looks like on Phil, where the lines have etched into his brow and the corners of his lips. He wants to tell Phil that he’ll always find him, that he’ll always come back. 

He doesn’t know if he should say it, though, if that’s too much. He thinks it might be implied, or Phil might already know, but he’s always tamped down on himself, on his thoughts and feelings, _especially_ his feelings. But he thinks Phil knows, anyway.

“I figured it out,” he says instead, voice low enough, sincere enough that he thinks he’s saying what Phil needs to hear. Phil lifts his head just enough that Dan can catch his gaze, and he offers a small smile that Phil’s quick to mirror.

“So,” Dan says, once he feels everything’s sufficiently lightened. He leans back from the cart to step around it, until he can take Phil’s hand in his and drag him off through the park. “Where are we going?” It’s part of the game, the reward - a trip somewhere, some time, where they can both just relax with each other for a while. Or see new things, or whatever the other has in mind. But it’s the spending time with Phil that Dan cares about. The place? The time? That’s never mattered much.

“I was thinking a week, maybe ten days? Up somewhere in the mountains…” Phil’s gaze goes soft as they walk, as he regales Dan with fantasies of a tiny ski chalet in the Swiss Alps, hot chocolate and warm blankets and crackling fires. Dan lets his imagination travel with Phil’s to masses of duvets and soft pillows and heat of an entirely different kind. 

He doesn’t even notice Phil’s traveled them until he’s staring out a window into a literal winter wonderland, surrounded by the warmth of a nearby fireplace.

\--------------------

He missed this, just a little, the thrill of the chase - well, the thrill of Phil chasing him.

Phil always figures out Dan’s clues almost immediately - not that Dan really _tries_ to make it a challenge - so Dan’s devised his best attempt at throwing Phil off: a game within the game, a chase within the chase. 

He’s just hopped a gondola in the outskirts of Venice, nearly ten miles now from the where Dan’s clue had led Phil. And where Dan had been waiting, just at the farthest reaches of Phil’s vision. But now, Phil’s gotten close, and Dan can practically _feel_ Phil’s eyes on him. Not that Dan’s hard to spot, a glow in the middle of the night on the water, but just knowing Phil is there, closing in, watching his every move, it sends a thrill up his spine. He doesn’t dare look over his shoulder, he doesn’t want to ruin the illusion of pretending he hasn’t noticed.

It’s quiet in this part of the city, shops all closed for the evening and the night life sequestered to another district, so Dan has no problem hearing the shifting of water that he assumes means Phil’s acquired himself a boat as well.

He’s making quite an effort, Dan notes, to time his movements with that of Dan’s gondolier, but it doesn’t change the fact that some of the sounds come from behind Dan and not in front.

“‘Scuse me,” Phil says, almost softer than the clunk of the two boats colliding - it’s nothing messy, aside from the angry words from Dan’s gondolier, but they’re in Italian and neither he nor Phil really knows enough to translate. Besides, the edge of Phil’s boat - or, rather, the boat Phil’s stolen for the evening - is within reach, and Dan doesn’t bother glancing at his gondolier before maneuvering his way over to Phil.

Phil stifles a giggle at Dan’s clumsiness as he all but falls into the boat, which isn’t really fair given how clumsy Phil is on a regular basis, but he’s here and Dan missed him and that sorta overrides everything else. Except his sarcasm.

“Yeah, see if I take _you_ anywhere nice for your reward,” Dan grumbles at the baseboards of the boat - he’s on hands and knees right now, and the wood isn’t the most comfortable. By the time he pushes himself up to a sitting position, Phil’s grinning down at him.

“Too easy,” Phil chuckles through the words and Dan shakes his head in mock annoyance. He isn’t bothered, though, not really. The goal has always been to keep Phil close for as long as possible. 

“Fine, I’ll make it really hard next time,” Dan argues at the glow surrounding Phil. His features are cast into bizarre shadows, unearthly and unreal. Dan won’t make it any harder next time, he knows. Phil grins down at him like he knows this as well.

“Where are we going, then?” Phil asks, and he pulls the boat to a stop beside a dock. Dan tilts his head and purses his lips.

“Well, not sure if you _deserve_ a reward, if that was too easy?” Dan shrugs, then steps off the boat with far more grace than he had when transferring boats earlier. When he turns back, Phil has his hand stuck out and a single foot on the dock, the other still firmly planted on the boat.

Dan reaches out, clasps his hand tight in Phil’s, and takes them to the secluded villa sat on this spot two hundred years later that he’d been planning for their next trip.

\---------------------

“Took you long enough,” Phil says, grin widening into a smirk as Dan leans forward. His elbows clunk on the table between them, and the rumble of the train he’s just boarded vibrates up through Dan’s fingertips.

“Maybe if you hadn’t given me such an awful clue,” Dan tilts his head and lifts a brow, “I’d have been here sooner.” Phil blows out a breath of laughter, just quiet enough that Dan can hear but the other passengers seem unbothered. 

“Maybe if you were better at figuring out the clues…” Phil leans back, arms crossed over his chest, but his whole face softens - Dan knows he’ll end up with an easy one next time.

Phil doesn’t seem to have brought anything with him, and Dan wonders if he plans for them to jump through time from a moving train. Dan’s never tried it, he always has to be completely still and focused, but Phil’s much better at this than Dan. He’s been doing it quite a bit longer, or so he’s implied.

A leg connects with Dan’s under the table, then, just a brush against his. He shakes his head in mock annoyance but scoots to the edge of his seat a bit too quickly for it to be interpreted as anything but eagerness. 

“So where are we going, then? And for how long?” Dan can barely keep his face expressionless, trying not to let his hopes show through his features. It’s become far less about the place and time they visit and far more about how long they stay. That’s how it feels for Dan, anyway.

“Found this place,” Phil starts, head tilted. Dan can already see the daydreamy expression he gets just before they go somewhere - some _time_. The glow around him brightens and turns a kind of color Dan has no words for, shimmering at the edges in stark contrast to the plain colors of the train, as if to remind Dan that they are something else, something unique and unreal and somehow still a pair, matched.

Dan can’t see his own glow, but Phil’s tried to describe it many times. For all his traveling, all the cultures and words he’s been exposed to, the best he could come up with was ‘ _it’s like...sparkly? And the edges do this wiggly thing,’_ cue wiggling fingers, ‘ _that sometimes makes my eyes hurt, but like, in a good way_ ’. Dan had just laughed and taken another sip of red wine. They’d been off the coast of Italy somewhere, one of Phil’s favorite spots for these ‘reward’ trips.

“I think you’d like it, it’s a beachy type of place in the Greek islands,” Phil continues, his head straightening up as he leans forward to match Dan’s posture on the edge of his seat. His leg wraps around the back of Dan’s calf, swinging it closer, and Dan does his best to pretend he’s not imagining what a week - or two or three or however many he can convince Phil to stay for this time - on a beach will be like. 

Not that they’ve never done beaches before, of course - the first several of these reward trips had been to beaches, where Dan had turned a regrettable shade of orangey-brown he then had to explain away to his parents when he’d returned home. He really ought to stop by and say hello to his parents again soon. Maybe after this trip.

“How long?” Dan asks - the only question that really matters, he thinks. Phil rolls his eyes, but the smile never leaves his lips. Dan loves a lot of things about Phil, but he thinks that smile, that smile might be one of his favorites.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Phil waggles his head a bit as he says it, and Dan has to shove the sleeve of his jumper over his mouth to muffle his unexpected laugh. They’re both dressed a bit anachronistically, Dan’s native-time style not quite suited for the late seventies, but it’s passable and nobody seems to care.

Besides, they’ll be gone soon enough anyway, off to whenever Phil has in mind for the ‘perfect’ time to visit these islands. He’s always worried about that, the ‘perfect’ time. He’s never mentioned it outright, but Dan thinks he might’ve landed in a bad time once, or been stuck somehow. He won’t pry, though, that’s Phil’s place to talk about it when he wants to.

Instead of any kind of response, Dan just dips his head a bit, widens his eyes and lets his lips droop into a pout. He’ll act tough, but Phil’s never been able to say no to Dan, not really. Even after he’d helped Dan back after his first travel, got him back home only minutes after he’d left, he couldn’t say no when Dan had asked him to come back. 

‘ _Fine,_ ’ he’d said, _‘but only one time, just to show you how to do it._ ’ He’d mumbled something about ‘responsible traveling’ before disappearing into the glow, and Dan had laid down in his bed for twelve hours straight without sleeping. 

He’d blamed it on anxiety, on fear and adrenaline and having no fucking clue what was happening to him, but it was really about Phil. Dan had spent hour after hour replaying everything he could remember about Phil, every word he said, every tiny detail, and committing it all to memory. If he was inside some fucked-up fever dream, it was one he didn’t want to forget.

“ _Fine_ , fine,” Phil grumbles, much in the same way he had over ten years ago. Well, ten years _ish_ , it’s a bit hard to tell for sure, but Phil tries to keep them both on some kind of schedule. It’s worked so far, kept them both in touch with their families on a regular enough basis to avoid any real suspicion - that’s a whole other discussion they’d had, after Phil had first introduced him to the concept of traveling. It’d been surprisingly easy to keep Phil coming back after the first time.

“Well?” Dan wiggles his leg, still latched to Phil’s, under the table - it’s his best attempt at getting information given they’re stuck on a train with a bunch of other passengers and no way for Dan to _really_ torture Phil.

“C’mon, let’s go, we’ll talk when we get there.” Phil glances around, evidently just as aware of all the other people as Dan. They’ve both always preferred privacy, except for that one time- well, that’s something he can think about later, after this trip, when he’s left alone again to lead Phil on some expedition across time to find him. 

As much fun as it is to chase and be chased, he so much prefers these in-between moments, the ones where he and Phil get to just... _exist_ together. 

The train rumbles beneath them as Phil stands, and Dan watches him disappear into the next carriage before getting up from his own seat. Best not to have people get suspicious - two people dressed a bit weird, sitting together and leaving at exactly the same time? Somehow disappearing entirely from a moving train?

Of all the things the other passengers might suspect, he doubts ‘two time travelers’ will be the first thing that comes to mind, but Dan would rather they didn’t think anything at all. And Phil would _really_ rather they didn’t think anything, he’d rather they forget he and Dan exist entirely. 

As it stands, Dan catches the gentle movement of a door clicking shut just at the end of a row of cabins, and he drops into a casual gait as he makes his way over to it. Nobody else seems to be in this carriage, but he’s always felt more comfortable pretending he belongs even when nobody’s watching. It helps dissipate the undercurrent of nerves at whatever comes next.

The room is dark when Dan slips inside, but he can easily make out Phil’s glowing outline where he’s laid back on one of the beds - he looks like he’s asleep from here: eyes shut, hands tucked behind his head and that soft smile on his lips. Dan keeps his footsteps quiet as he moves closer, just until his fingertips can reach the very edges of the shimmering light.

Phil’s eyes open, then, fast but not in a worried way. His whole face stays smooth aside from the crinkles around his lips, and Dan grins wide as he crawls into the tiny bed beside Phil. His glow tingles on Dan’s skin, a warm, almost fizzy sort of feeling, and he drapes his leg over Phil’s and his arm across Phil’s chest. 

“Ready?” Phil asks in the seconds before Dan brushes his lips against Phil’s. In place of a response, Dan just hums, the vibration matching the sensation of Phil’s glow dragging him in, buzzy and soft and light.

And then it _is_ light, and warm and glowy in a way that has more to do with natural sunlight than Phil’s body being so close. Dan would still argue he prefers the latter.

“Wanna see?” Phil asks into Dan’s mouth, his short way of asking ‘ _did you want to take a look around this amazing place I found for us?_ ’. And Dan knows Phil well enough to say ‘yes’.

“Mm, I’d love to,” Dan mumbles as he pulls away. A warm, fresh sort of air surrounds them, a little salty and damp, and most definitely not in the same way as a musty train car. Phil’s incredible at this, at moving through time and space simultaneously. He’s always said it’s part of the movement, that time is just another dimension, same as space, but Dan’s never been able to understand it that way - it’s usually felt a lot like trying to fill a sinkhole with sand, so he’s given up for the time being. He’ll worry about it later, when he needs to be able to do that, when it matters again. Right now he has Phil, that’s all that matters.

“It’s right on the water, like _right_ on the water,” Phil says as he rolls from the massive bed beneath them - it’s truly enormous, large enough to fit them both comfortably if they wanted to spread out. Not that they really ever do, but it’s nice to have the option.

Dan watches from his spot on the unbelievably soft duvet as Phil draws aside a curtain, and a brilliantly bright light shines through the window and into the room. Dan’s eyes water as they adjust, and he wonders if Phil’s glow could ever get that bright. He reckons if anyone’s could, it’d be Phil’s. He’s just _like that_.

“Wow.” It’s the only thing Dan feels capable of saying; the moment he’s able to see properly, crystal clear water stares back at him, the most beautiful shade of turquoise, and he has to sit straight up on the bed just to see the small stretch of sand between the window and the ocean. Phil wasn’t fucking around, they’re _right_ on the water.

“Do you like it?” Phil’s voice has gone soft, the way it does when he’s not sure, when he’s still gauging Dan’s reaction to something. Dan’s heart feels light, feels _hopeful_ , even though there’s not anything special to be hoping for. That’s just how Phil makes him feel. Like there are beautiful things coming.

“Of course, it’s amazing,” Dan says. His words couldn’t begin to do it justice, though, they can’t even come close, so he pushes himself off the bed and grabs Phil’s hand on the way to the door. The whole little cottage seems to be a single room - bed, kitchen, and lounge area all open to each other, and a door to the side that likely leads to a bathroom. Plus one other door facing the sea, and Dan pulls it open and drags Phil behind him.

It’s almost unreal, the perfect beach scene in front of him, but his shoes sink into the sand and warm, salty air hits his face and tugs at the edges of his jumper so he reckons it _must_ be real. He turns to grin at Phil before dropping his hand to pull the thick fabric over his head.

By the time he’s gotten past the mass of black fluff, Phil’s grin has widened so much he looks a second away from laughing, and Dan shakes his head - Phil always waits until he’s sure Dan’s satisfied, always makes sure Dan is happy before anything else. He watches Dan’s approach with wide blue eyes, one shade off from the color of the ocean at Dan’s back.

“You coming?” Dan asks, though he’s still yet to remove his own shoes and jeans. Phil shakes his head, but it’s not a ‘no’ sort of shake, more a ‘ _I can’t believe you’re dragging me into the ocean already_ ’ kind. Phil’s not _afraid_ of the ocean, necessarily, just the deep parts. And Dan has no intent of taking him any deeper than they can stand, anyway.

“Come on, it’ll be _fun_ ,” Dan promises with a wink, and he lets his fingers trail the familiar skin just above the waistband of Phil’s pants. Goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch, and even in the bright light of the midday sun, Dan can see the colors shift and warp in Phil’s glow. 

On a whim, Dan grips Phil’s waist, turns him in a circle until they’ve switched spots. The ocean halos the light surrounding Phil, combining with the colors to form something truly _beautiful_ , something uniquely Phil. Dan’s gaze travels from the shimmering edges of the glow across Phil’s jacket-clad arms, and his hands slide up from Phil’s waist to remedy that particular issue.

Phil puts up no fight when Dan pushes gently at the shoulders of the jacket and runs his fingers down Phil’s arms as he slides it off. He works at Phil’s shirt next, undoing each button with the utmost care and gentleness. Dan’s eyes narrow as he works, slowly exposing inch after inch of Phil’s chest to the sun. It’s only once he’s gotten about halfway down - and at least three or four minutes have passed - that Phil lets a frustrated noise escape his throat and his fingers replace Dan’s to hastily remove the rest of the buttons.

“Come on, you tease,” Phil grumbles, and even though Dan hadn’t _really_ meant to be much of a tease, he smirks at the flash in Phil’s eyes anyway. Shoes disappear into the sand on the way to the edge of the water, though Phil doesn’t slow enough for either of them to remove their jeans. 

The water seeps into them immediately, soaking through and clinging to Dan’s skin in a way he’d find uncomfortable if not for Phil dragging him deeper, pulling him close and lifting his legs to latch around Phil’s back under the surface.

Phil’s hands find Dan’s skin, sliding up his back with silky smoothness from the water, and it takes all of a second for Dan’s lips to find Phil’s - it’s easy, natural, like breathing. The very same things Phil had told Dan about traveling, about slipping through time. Simple, effortless, natural. A part of him.

That’s Phil, Dan thinks, a part of him. How else could they fit together this well?

“Missed you,” Dan says into Phil’s lips, the only break he’s taken and really just for air and to remind Phil, remind him how much he loves this. How much he loves Phil.

“You always miss me.” Phil laughs through the words, and it’s the breathless kind of laugh that means he’s just as affected as Dan, just as lost in Dan’s body as he is in Phil’s. On any other day, in any other scenario, Dan would scoff and say that’s bullshit, make some sarcastic remark or redirect or do anything to pretend those words aren’t true. But they are, and he knows it.

“I do,” Dan says into Phil’s lips as he closes the barely-there space between them. Fuck it, yeah, he misses Phil. He misses this, the lazy kisses, the heated ones, the slow mornings in bed and the rush of Phil dragging him on new adventures. Dan pulls back again, inhales the salty air in the hopes it’ll give him a moment to remember what he wanted to say.

“How long?” The question comes out on a heavy breath, like he’d just run a goddamn marathon. He really ought to get in better shape, if a makeout session is affecting him this much. Or maybe it’s just Phil. Maybe it’ll always be just Phil.

In place of an answer, Phil dips his head, glances at the water between them. Already, Dan can feel the pressure of a short trip, a short break from their cat-and-mouse game. His heart aches with the desire to catch up, to talk about everything that’s happened since they last saw each other, to talk about nothing at all, to spend hours and hours and _hours_ not talking altogether. It’s been ages since Dan last traced the freckles on Phil’s skin.

“It’s just…I was thinking- and you can say no! It’s, it’s fine, you-” Phil stumbles through the words, and Dan’s eyes narrow - he’s been doing this for _years_ , trying to crack puzzles Phil creates for him, and this lack of confidence isn’t normal. This is different, uncharted territory. Dan lifts his hand to Phil’s chin and tilts it up.

“Spit it out, Philip.” Dan holds firm when Phil attempts to turn away. All Dan can think is that this trip is looking shorter and shorter by the second.

“I thought- maybe, I dunno, we could just...stay? A while? I mean, however long you want! No, no pressure, or anything…” Phil trails off, his chest caving with a deep exhale, and Dan lets his own hand fall back into the water.

 _Stay_? Indefinitely? Dan’s gaze drops to the space between him and Phil, barely sparking with the edges of Phil’s glow. Does he really want that? To just be here, with Dan, for however long? 

“ _Together_?” That’s the first word from Dan’s lips, the only question he has and the only one he thinks really matters, and he looks up to find Phil’s eyes fixed on him. 

“I- uh, yeah, if you want, I mean-”

“Yes.” Dan says it before Phil can get off on another string of stuttered words and empty worries, and - if possible - Phil’s eyes widen even further.

“R-really? Yes? You actually- I mean, you don’t _have_ to, you- we can leave whenever, travel-”

“Phil,” Dan takes his hand out of the water and slaps it over Phil’s stupid mouth. “Do you want me to stay here, with you?” He can feel Phil’s mouth open behind his hand, but he doesn’t remove it. “Yes or no.” Phil blinks once before nodding, and Dan’s entire body melts into the ocean and floats away. 

It doesn’t _actually_ , but that’s basically how he feels, light and incredible and like this whole thing might be a-

“Not a dream?” Dan asks, something he’d asked time and time again after their first few trips together, when Phil had just started teaching Dan how to travel. It became something of a joke, but Dan had let it go after it got a bit old. Until the first time they’d kissed, and Dan asked again, completely serious. 

Phil’s entire being - glow and all - lights up at the familiar words, though, and his laugh vibrates through his chest and into Dan’s until they’re both giggling into each others’ shoulders. Dan thinks there might’ve been some tears, but the two of them surrounded by salt water and he’s pretty sure it doesn’t really matter since they’re happy tears anyway.

“You’ll stay?” Phil asks again, as if Dan’s not made it abundantly clear how much he wants this. He lifts his head enough to press his lips to the salty skin of Phil’s shoulder once, twice, three times.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading lovelies! if you'd like, feel free to give it a cheeky [reblog on tumblr](https://knlalla.tumblr.com/post/184132357607/now-onto-the-future-fic)


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